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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666524">a hundred arms, a hundred years</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry'>Pomfry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the good ones always seem to break [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Healing, Apathy, Ashiem is a Rit Zien and gives zero fucks about the apocalypse, Devotion, Gen, Nonbinary Character, as is befitting an angel just out of heaven, the simplicity of season 4 of supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:54:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashiem is a healer. They fix things with their Grace, nurse beings back to health. This time, their patient is Sam Winchester.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the good ones always seem to break [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a hundred arms, a hundred years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This came from the idea of a very annoyed guardian angel keeping watch over sam after dean died in the series finale and welp.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If asked, Ashiem couldn't say what made them go down to Earth. The Rit Zien have the ability to sense pain, but for an angel to sense the agony of a human tainted by demon blood with Lucifer's claim on their soul--that's odd. That's uncommon. It's downright an impossibility.</p><p>But Ashiem is a Rit Zien. Every atom in their being is screaming to heal, to mend, to sink their Grace into that human's body and get rid of the parasite. Rit Ziens are nothing if not determined when they sense pain. So when Ashiem felt it, they immediately began to make their descent. Other angels scattered away from them, fearful of their abilities, but Ashiem is a Rit Zien and Rit Zien are stubborn. Stubborn, but resourceful, because Ashiem knows that they will never be let out of Heaven, not until Castiel retrieves the Righteous Man. Ashiem could wait at the gates, wailing and screaming in a maddened attempt to get to their patient, but Rit Zien are as observant as they are stubborn.</p><p>There is a small hole in the security of Heaven. Not big. Not enough for a demon to slip through. But enough for an angel. Ishim used this very exit many times, brimming with love and obsession, the kind that led to Cupids being demoted due to the fact that the receiver of those emotions usually ends up dead.</p><p>Ishim stopped leaving Heaven a while ago, after Akobel fell. Ishim claimed innocence and guilt and misery at a brother's death, but Ashiem has always been a little stronger than other Rit Zien in terms of empathy, and they <em>k</em><em>new </em>he was lying. It was not Ashiem's problem, however; the Rit Zien are neutral in all conflicts of Heaven. They are medics, healers, and mercy killers if need be. They are not to lean in one direction of another. Any and all pain will be healed.</p><p>Ashiem slips through the cracks and descends to Earth. It has been some time since they have done this; over a hundred years, in fact, and their vessel is dead, buried next to his loved ones and reunited in Heaven. Ashiem needs a new vessel, and they need it <em>f</em><em>ast </em>before Heaven notices they're gone.</p><p>They cast about their attention, sinking their Grace into the earth until they find her. Krissie Waterson, twenty four years old and two years into a coma. Her body will not last much longer. Exactly two minutes, actually. Already, Ashiem can see the Reaper lingering around the corners.</p><p>Ashiem could heal this girl, but it's like there's a hook dug deep in their grace, begging to go heal that specific person; besides, her time has come anyway. Ashiem sits and watches as Krissie is led away by a Reaper that's speaking to her in a soft, low voice, explaining everything, and in the millisecond between Krissie's heart failing and the monitor registering it, Ashiem is slipping into her body. The muscles are degraded, to the point where Ashiem won't be able to stand, so they heal that, and pick out any remaining possible diseases. Then, they open their eyes and sit up.</p><p>The heart monitor keeps it's steady beeps but there is an alarm screeching. Ashiem frowns, just slightly, and waves a hand. It stops, and Ashiem manipulates the light around them so the humans won't notice them. The hospital gown is unfortunately very revealing, and exposes Ashiem's back too much for them to be comfortable.</p><p>It doesn't take long for them to find a clothing shop. They pick through the clothes, touching the fabrics, and eventually settling on a black turtleneck that doesn't bunch around the throat, a tan jacket, black pants that are not loose around the legs, and black heels. It's a lot of black, but Ashiem has always been fond of the color. They don't bother taking the tags off and after they're dressed they spread their wings and take flight.</p><p>Their patient is in an alley, bleeding out, slowly, slowly, almost near death. Ashiem doesn't like that; if their patient couldn't be saved, then they would smite him, but they aren't as eager to do that as their siblings. Besides, this is a simple wound. They stride forward, eager to do their purpose.</p><p>"Sam Winchester," they say, plucking his name from his soul, "it is not your time to die."</p><p>Sam is an attractive human, with big brown eyes and fluffy hair. Ashiem has the amused thought that he would have been like a puppy with too big paws when he was younger.</p><p>"I should have died a year ago," he rasps, and Ashiem can only nod at that. The pain in his soul is strong, strong enough to take Ashiem's breath away, but there is that tattered edge of it that comes with death. But it was not his time even then; it will not come for years yet.</p><p>"Yes." They remove his hand and narrow their eyes at the injury. A simple one, although one that ends in agony. A simple enough fix. "Please close your eyes."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>Ashiem sighs. It is because his soul is not ready for seeing their Grace, but if they stay in one place for too long their commander will find them. "Because no one is supposed to know I'm actually here."</p><p>"Wha—"</p><p>"Close your eyes."</p><p>Ashiem sinks their Grace into his body once he does, washing away old wounds with each pulse. The Grace used draws the attention of the angels whose task is to observe humanity, and so Ashiem takes flight, dropping Sam onto his motel bed and making themself invisible again. They watch as he looks around wildly, knife in one hand, and send a gentle suggestion of sleep. Then they leave, flying to Heaven and turning the human over in their mind.</p><p>Ahiem has never been up on the gossip—it bores them, honestly—but now with the suffocating instinct to <em>heal gone</em>, the name Sam Winchester registers.</p><p>Sam Winchester, the boy who will start the apocalypse. Sam Winchester, the younger brother of the Righteous Man. Sam Winchester, the vessel of Lucifer.</p><p>Ashiem just healed the vessel of Lucifer. It should not have been done; the demon feeding him blood should have come to his aid, but it did not. Ashiem has only heard tales from the older Rit Zien, about having a pull to heal so strong it was impossible to resist. Ashiem never thought they would be one to experience that, but they did. It is unexpected, but it means that Sam Winchester is forever Ashiem's charge, and they take their duty very seriously.</p><p>If he is in danger, they will come. If he is in pain that none can heal, they will come. It is simple; it is perfect. God has commanded it to be thus.</p><p>Ashiem goes back home and prepares for the next time they are needed.</p><hr/><p>Ashiem keeps an eye on him after that. The demon blood in his system wrecks havoc on his body, his very DNA, and it hurts to see. The addiction is poisoning his mind, and the corruption it brings about only hurts even more.</p><p>His soul is still bright. Still kind, still pure, but how much of that will be left once everything is over? How much of Ashiem's charge will remain?</p><p>The thought unsettles them. So, after every hunt, after every drink, they heal him. They draw out the pain, the illness, the infection. They cannot take the demon blood without harming him, not when it's been intertwined with his own for so long, but—they lessen the urges. It's all they can do.</p><p>Castiel has begun doubting. Of what, Ashiem does not know. Their Father? Heaven? Or perhaps just the Plan. Ashiem does not doubt; Sam is their charge and so they will protect him. It is as simple as that. Castiel will not Fall unless he doubts his very purpose. An angel's purpose is what keeps their faith alive, the very core of their Grace burning. It is not common knowledge, but an open secret among the Rit Zien. To doubt is to invite the Fall. To have faith in something is to remain in power.</p><p>They think that Castiel only needs to have faith in Dean, in humanity, and he will not Fall.</p><p>They sit next to Sam from where he sleeps, peaceful and without nightmares for once. They brush his hair away from his cheek, humming a lullaby under their breath as he leans into the touch. Castiel was here only a few hours ago; he was talking with Dean, a subconscious desire to regain stability, and Sam—well, Sam was ignored. And that hurt, to be ignored. Ashiem knows that Sam thrives on being noticed; he is the apple of his brother's eye, and to not be the only object of his fierce protectiveness hurt Sam more than he would have liked to admit. More than he would ever admit to himself.</p><p>Ashiem sends a pulse of Grace through him, and it is not even to heal. They simply like the way Sam reacts. Other angels are wary of a Rit Zien's Grace. They associate it with battle, with pain, with death, and while Ashiem can understand that, it does not feel good, to be feared for something that they take such pride in.</p><p>But Sam—oh, Sam drinks in their Grace like a plant dying of thirst. He practically basks in it, a cat lazing about under the sun, and it is so <em> nice </em>to not have a being flinch away from their Grace. They lean down to press their lips to his temple, sending him into a deeper sleep. There is a hunt tomorrow; he will need all the rest he can get. </p><p>There is a quiet flutter of wings and Ashiem straightens, eyes narrowed. Castiel stands at the foot of Dean's bed, expression lost, his Grace raw and aching in a way that Ashiem can only associate with pain. They drift closer, their own Grace rising in response, and Castiel's blade comes up within half a second. Ashiem stops dead in their tracks, unamused. They do not like being threatened.</p><p>"...A Rit Zien?" Castiel murmurs, confused, then shakes his wings. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>He's trying to sound firm. Ashiem tries not to find this endearing but they do. They say, "I am here for Sam. He is…my patient."</p><p>Castiel's eyes flicker with panic. "Your patient?"</p><p>Ashiem's own wings arch in response to the unspoken thought. "My patient, yes. He has <em> been </em>my patient. I am a Rit Zien, Castiel. I do no harm to those under my care."</p><p>"You smite other angels," Castiel accuses, to which Ashiem only shrugs.</p><p>"That is my job. I smite those who will not be able to live; better a quick, painless death than a slow one." Their eyes flick over to Dean. "You have been trying your best to keep them healthy, but you do not know what is best for the human body. As a show of faith, I will heal Dean Winchester."</p><p>"Wait, no—"</p><p>It is too late. Ashiem has taken two steps forward and placed their hand on his wrist. Grace floods him, seeking out every hurt, every ache, and soothing them. His soul they are unable to reach; Castiel's claim on it is too bright, too strong. Ashiem does not think that their brother knows the virtual shield he placed on this human's soul.</p><p>Still, it is a good enough demonstration that Castiel does not kill them immediately. Instead, they are only slammed into the wall, blade held to their throat as Castiel's throat works, unable to voice his demands for explanations. </p><p>"I am a Rit Zien, Castiel." Ashiem's voice hardens. "I have taken an oath not to harm another angel. But if you do not cease this course of action, I will not hesitate."</p><p>"An angel is bound by their oath."</p><p>"An angel can break their oath."</p><p>"At a terrible cost."</p><p>"It is one I am willing to take on. Now <em> release me." </em></p><p>Castiel does, blade disappearing in a small flash of Grace. Sam has begun shifting, nightmares of his own death, of his brother's death, haunting his dreams, and Ashiem banishes the shadows away, leaving his mind in only sunshine and a cloudless sky. Castiel watches them curiously.</p><p>"Do you truly care for Sam?"</p><p>"He is my patient," they say simply, as though that explains everything, and to a Rit Zien it does. Their patient is their entire world when they're in their care, and Sam will forever be Ashiem's patient.</p><p>Castiel, though, was an angel bred for war. His face contorts into a dubious squint, but he says nothing, simply sitting down next to Dean on the edge of the bed, staring at him helplessly, like a little human has the answers Castiel seeks. Ashiem can sympathize, but not understand. Instead, they resume sending their Grace into Sam's body and soul, like the tide, until the sun rises.</p><p>Castiel does not move. Ashiem does.</p>
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